There’s such a marked divide between the baggy-jumpered, yelping Idlewild of the mid-nineties and the corduroy-blazered, thoughtful Idlewild of today, it could be incongruous watching them play the prickly punk of 100 Broken Windows in between the anthemic rock of The Remote Part or Warnings/Promises. But the ebb and flow of the band’s setlist tonight at the Roundhouse has not just been thrown together, and as Roddy Woomble paces back and forth across the stage like Liam Gallagher while the other six members dance around him, it is perfectly obvious that Idlewild are as at home pogoing around to riffs as they are staring into the lights and harmonising.

They ease into the night with new song, ‘Nothing I Can Do About It’ before jumping into rock-compilation staple, ‘You held the world in your arms’ and the stomping beefcake of a single that is ‘Collect Yourself’. Guitarist Rod Jones dances around the stage grandstanding, eyes closed and guitar in the air, and as the band go from the chorus/anti-chorus of 1999’s ‘Roseability’ (‘GERTRUDE STEIN SAID THAT’S ENOUGH’) to the earworm off-beat of 2002’s ‘Live In A Hiding Place’, it becomes obvious at what point the change happened in Idlewild, when the spiky riffs and non-songs of 100 Broken Windows transformed into the smooth flow of the rock anthem.

Idlewild sprang out of the rather traditional nineties build-a-band approach of a few people meeting at a party and discovering they all owned the same records. And as a band, are steeped in tradition, homeliness. Despite all the swagger of some of their newer material, this is still a band that feels very personal, local no matter where you live. They are also unmistakeably Scottish in their bones, grounded in the earth, both in the band and around it. Edinburgh brewer Barney Jones is currently brewing a batch of Idlewild ale (‘Scottish Fiction IPA’) and Roddy still contributes a regular column about Scottish hillwalking to walking magazine The Great Outdoors. It’s called ‘Woomble’s Way’.

As the granite lilt of Scotland’s late poet laureate, Edwin Morgan forms the top bed of the barnstorming love-punch of ‘Remote Part/Scottish Fiction’ during the encore, the rafters of the Roundhouse begin to shake. As the lights turn out to the audience, it becomes obvious that it is not dominated by either gender, or any age bracket. Watching the crowd, it’s clear every person with their eyes closed and their fingers in the air has their own Idlewild. Because although Idlewild might have changed a lot over the course of the last two decades, they’ve never stopped doing that. Whether it’s bouncing around to ‘These Wooden Ideas’ or singing the chorus to ‘El Capitan’, Idlewild somehow always manage to write songs that become very personal to you, the songs you sing along to with your eyes closed, and your hands in the air.

After five years away, Idlewild are back and Everything Ever Written is the proud emblem of the reawakening of one of the finest indie rock bands to come out of Scotland.

Fans are reacquainted with the lyrical ingenuity of Roddy Woomble and the boisterous riffs which have endeared the band to so many. But alongside this, a more tender side of the band is explored through a folksier turn and is joyously delivered throughout.

Predecessor 2009’s Post Electric Blues felt hastily written. The album’s first few tracks were absolute crackers but the record couldn’t stay the course and tailed off into non-identity. This was a trap which seemed to pester the band that went on hiatus shortly after and the hangover could well have jeopardised Everything Ever Written.

So five years on, as Idlewild come out of the traps flying, with the hard-hitting ‘Collect Yourself’, this unwittingly springs to mind. However Everything Ever Written has a much wider scope and Idlewild confidently carry the opener’s momentum throughout. A moment is not squandered, from the assertive riff of ‘Collect Yourself’ through the romantic folk ballad of ‘Every Little Means Trust’ to the chiming piano-notes of finale ‘Utopia’. This is certainly Idlewild’s most well-rounded produce since 2005’s sublime Warnings/Promises.

During stand-out track ‘Come on Ghost’ Roddy Woomble sings:

“An explosion in the sewer/The rats that pine for sunshine have found a new way to get it”

This is the core of Idlewild’s craft. Woomble’s lyrics are powerfully simple, fuelled by clever turns of phrase and flashes of intense imagery. Lyrically Idlewild remain in an elite class.

As ‘Come On Ghost’ builds into a climax, frenzied with distortion, rough-edged riffs and the surprise of a saxophone solo, it becomes clear that the aptly named eighth studio album Everything Ever Written really is the culmination of everything the band has released in their long career. The punch-drunk youthful energy of 100 Broken Windows drives the pace of ‘On Another Planet’ as much as the cinematic style of Warnings/Promises shines through on ’Nothing I Can Do About It’.

The organ led ‘So Many Things To Decide’ is a swirling country affair and it sounds like the end of a oddly sad jamboree as Woomble repeats, “Did you ever get the feeling that I made important decisions far too late in life?” At this point, only three tracks into the record, the range of sounds and styles is already enormous. But the coherence with which they’re delivered is staggering. This feeling only grows as the middle of the record is bursting with romantic ballads and vivid heart-warmers such as ‘(Use it) If You Can Use It’ and ‘Like a Clown’.

On the record’s release Woomble commented, "The record soundtracks a period of transition. Working without time constraints gave the whole thing a creative freedom. Idlewild is a new band to me now; I’m excited for the future." After this outing – so are we. Having pooled the best aspects of their 20-year back-catalogue into one assured album, Idlewild are back and have plenty to offer.

Everything Ever Written is available from amazon & iTunes.